Save My Soul
by It's-A-Passion
Summary: Haven Carter was infallibly in control of every facet of her life. From the outside, she was completely put together. No one knew about the trips to the shrink or her sudden obsession with drawing a man she's never met. Until he shows up and unravels her secrets. And he ignites something within her soul; like gasoline on fire. Full Summary Inside. Wolverine OC.


**Full Summary:**

**Haven Carter was infallibly in control of every facet of her life. From the outside, she's completely put together. No one knows about the trips to the shrink or her sudden obsession with drawing a man she's never met. Until he shows up and unravels her secrets. And he ignites something within her soul; like gasoline on fire. **

**And slowly, their connection is discovered. **

**Since his arrival, each night, she dreams of their past together. Their tragic separation. She's positive this thing between them is one-sided; she's most certainly going insane. She's remembering things she couldn't possibly know, things that couldn't possibly have happened. She's never been more out of control. But, she finds it isn't so terribly bad. Every night she falls in love again with the same man, only to have him torn away from her grasp before waking up to the present. Dreams and reality blur; what's real and what's not aren't so clear anymore. **

**He can't remember anything before fifteen years ago, haunted by what he can't remember. He can't remember his past lives. Can't remember his current extended one, or meeting her again and again in this life. He can't remember searching for her. **

**They're true soul mates, meant to be. Reincarnated again and again, doomed never to be together. And when Haven starts remembering their past lives, it all comes together. They've waited a long time to be together properly, and nothing's going to stop them this time. Certainly not their curse. And certainly not the fact that he can't remember anything before fifteen years ago. Though, it posed some problems.**

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**Also, thanks to Grace . Bella for all her awesome help with this chapter!**

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Save My Soul

Prologue: Crazy

Haven Carter took a deep, settling breath. "I think I'm going crazy."

The psychologist – who was surprisingly young – didn't even blink. Kevin Regent, who'd insisted she call him Kevin, couldn't be much older than twenty five or six. Haven began to regret her decision. This psychologist barely looked old enough for the degrees framed on his wall, and the recommendations he received from Haven's general doctor. He certainly didn't look to have the experience Haven was searching for. He didn't look much older than Haven herself. His face was unlined, youthful, with a mop of ashy blonde hair and thick eyebrows, and a seemingly permanent quizzical gaze.

His eyes, though, gave away the intelligence that his degrees boasted. "What makes you think that?"

He was absolutely calm, his voice was completely neutral.

Haven swallowed. This was it, her confession. The secret she'd been keeping for a full month.

On the outside, Haven's life was put together. She was accomplished, intelligent, diligent. She was a 23 year old college student who worked two jobs to put herself through her MFA in Studio Art program. Her senior year, she'd been the school's captain, she'd been Valedictorian, she had been on the debate team, the netball and soccer teams, and she'd taken largely AP courses. She was completely focused.

She was a bit of a control freak. She had a few OCD tendencies, and was generally a very organized person. So, admitting to losing control of her perfectly crafted life, that she'd worked very hard for, did not agree with her. In fact, she wanted to run screaming from the room.

But she made herself stay. She shoved the portfolio at the psychologist. "I've been drawing pictures."

For just a moment, he frowned, before removing the expression and returning to his carefully void one. He flicked through the papers, the lead smudging his fingers, and Haven shamefully closed her eyes. This was so embarrassing. She'd never thought she'd need to see a shrink. Her life was coming together so well. And then BAM! This crap happens, and she gets thrown out of whack and spirals into a tizz.

But Haven was not one to run away from her problems. She faced them head on. Even if running away seemed more agreeable.

"They are very good." He glanced at her vaguely irritated expression before continuing on. "Do these drawings bother you?"

"Yes." She sighed. "I used to be completely in control. I had everything planned. And then _these_ started happening," she glared at the offending pictures, her nose scrunched in distaste. "And now it's all unraveling. It's all falling apart."

"Because of these pictures you've drawn?" He clarified.

Haven shook her head, "No."

He frowned, clearly confused. Haven ran a hand through her straight, glossy mane of black hair, and tried to explain. "_I_ didn't draw them."

Haven was sure he thought she was pranking him. Messing with him. She wished she was.

"But you said - ,"

She cut him off, reaching forward and flipping the portfolio open, resting at the first picture. Kevin was right; it was a good sketch. It was done well; and the man in it looked almost completely realistic. The lines around his eyes, the roughly sculpted nose, the thin-ish lips, the slight raise of one of his bushy eyebrows. The trail of hair running from his side burns, along his strong jaw line, coming to stop at the side of his chin. He was a ruggedly handsome man, if a little sad.

She moved it to the side to show another picture of the same man. Then another. Then another. The thick file was filled with sketches and drawing of the same man, with the sad eyes and the mutton chops. They were all of him; close up's, full-body portraits, silhouettes. Sometimes it was just his eyes. Sometimes he was in the middle of doing something; opening a door, smoking a cigar, riding a motorcycle.

And now, every time she fell asleep, she was haunted by him. Her dreams swam with his dark, hooded eyes, with perfect, thin-ish lips. And when she woke up, there was another picture pinned on her easel, and her fingers were covered from the lead, marking her sheets. Of this man she didn't know.

Haven gestured at them, "I didn't draw these. Yes, they're in my style, I admit that. And they were done on my easel, and my fingers are smudged in the black lead," she held up her hand to show the smudges covering her fingers from the latest drawing. She'd woken up, found it and decided she'd had enough. She was grateful he'd had an available time slot this morning for her to see him. "_But I didn't draw them._ Why would I? I've never seen him before. I don't know him." She shook her head.

Her eyes strayed down to the drawing of the man. He really was gorgeous. Unfairly so, now that she thought about it. Older than she usually went for in a guy, but not too old.

"You don't remember drawing them?" He clarified again, nodding. "Are you sure you don't know him?"

Which brought her to the second reason she had for thinking she was going insane. She bit her lip.

Every time she looked at those drawings of him, when she thought about him, wondered who he could possibly be, she was hit with a flash of familiarity that burned deep to the core of her being. It clung to the recesses of her mind and made her lips tingle and her palms sweat.

Like she was remembering being with him, how he made her heart pound, her palms sweat how when he kissed her, her lips tingled and she felt giddily happy.

Except she held no memory of him, because she didn't know him. It wasn't like he was a face that was stored in her memory, that only just evaded her, but would eventually come to her. She really just didn't know him. Never seen him before, never met him. She couldn't know that he rode a motorcycle, or that he had a liking for cigars; there was no explanation for that. Because if she had seen him, or met him, she certainly would've remembered. He wasn't one a girl could forget easily. Not when he walked around, looking like a surly god.

No, when she looked at him, she just felt like she knew him, in her body. Rather than her mind trying to recall something, it was her body that did.

But she didn't know him, and Jesus, it was driving her crazy.

She couldn't sleep for fear she'd do it again. But when she did, another drawing would be pinned to the easel when she woke up. She saw flashes of him everywhere. He haunted her dreams, he occupied her thoughts and distracted her when she was desperately trying to concentrate on her assignments and work. It was messing with her life, it was affecting her mental capabilities, and her psychological wellbeing was in jeopardy.

She just wanted it to stop, so she could go back to normal. She wanted her control back.

"I…" Her eyes stung and she blinked rapidly. She wanted to go back to normal. She needed it, desperately so. Haven rarely cried; it wasn't her thing. She liked to think she was tougher than that. That, and she saw crying as a complete lack of control; it was the signature of someone not in control of themselves. And Haven most certainly was. Or, she had been. Until about a month ago.

And things changed with these drawings.

"I don't know. I mean no, I don't know him. I would have remembered him, if I did. But…I get this feeling…of…_familiarity_ when I see his picture or when I think of him. And I can't shake it." She swallowed thickly, scolding herself.

_Don't you dare cry. Don't you dare. Not in front of him. Not now. Get a grip._

Gently, he pushed a box of tissues across the desk to her, not making a comment. She defiantly ignored them for a minute, before grabbing a couple and dabbing at her eyes. "I just want to go back to normal."

Her fingers tingled. She squeezed her hands, and it went away.

Her power always flared up when she was nervous or upset.

"Everything will be just fine. In a month or so, you'll be completely back to normal," he said confidently. Haven didn't entirely want to believe him in case he was setting her up for false hope. "How important is it for you to be in control, on a scale of one to ten, with ten being very high and one being very low?"

Haven pursed her lips. "Seven." He just looked at her, and she sighed. "Nine."

He nodded like that was what he suspected.

The rest of the session was spent discussing her conscious experiences and their links to her current state. He suggested it might be good for her to take a step back from everything and anything that put her under pressure and heighten her feelings of being out of control. She would apply to take time off from her studies, postponing it. She'd take time to relax. Read the books she hadn't had a chance to read yet. Maybe start her own book.

She left, feeling a bit better about the whole thing.

He stood as she did, walking to the door with her, "I'll see you next week, same time?"

She nodded, "Thanks Doc – Kevin."

He smiled, closing the door behind her.

She walked out the building, down to her borrowed car, heading back to the mansion. She drove slowly, thinking it over. She was still sure she was going crazy. Positive of it, actually. And she wasn't sure Kevin really understood the severity of her problems, but she decided to keep her appointment next week. She'd see how things turned out.

She pulled up in front of a large, somewhat foreboding, iron gate connected to tall brick walls that encircled the mansion. She pressed in the eight-digit combination and drove through when the gates creaked open.

The mansion itself was weathered with age, ivy climbing the bricks. What most people didn't know, though, was that it was actually a school for mutant kids. Gifted, some said. Cursed, said others. Haven was yet undecided; she had yet to experience a real deciding situation as many others had. Ostracism. Acceptance.

Since she was sixteen, she'd been at that mansion. It had come to be her home, and she couldn't bring herself to leave yet. She doubted she would. She was an X-Man. Well, X-Woman. And she planned on staying on and becoming the art teacher when she was finished. It was good timing, considering the old art teacher was retiring soon.

She pulled up, locking the car and letting herself in. The school was buzzing with noise as the kids moved about, going from class to class. She smiled at a few, waving, before heading for the grand staircase, taking them two at a time. She made her way up to the third level of the mansion, where the teachers and members of the X-Men resided. The children had rooms on the second floor, and the class rooms were on the bottom level.

She was almost to her room, when her best friend, Jubilation Lee chose that moment to walk out her room, smacking on some gum. She was still in her bright yellow silk pajamas, her short black hair delicately mused from sleep.

When she spotted Haven, one of her hands lifted to her hip, while the other pointed squarely at Haven. "So, chica, just getting in at," she glanced at her wrist, even though she had no watch on, "eleven in the morning. You wanna tell me where you went?"

Jubes could sniff out a secret a mile away. She was talented like that, and it wasn't even her power.

Haven shrugged, "You know. Here, there." She waved her hand dismissively, like it was no big deal. She followed Haven into her room. "You wanna tell me why you're still asleep at eleven in the morning? Late night?"

They both knew Jubes wasn't one for staying up late doing work. Haven raised an eyebrow teasingly, "Or was someone keeping you up?"

Jubes winked mischievously, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Haven scrunched her nose in disgust, "Ew. I really don't want to know what you and Gambit get up to behind closed doors."

Jubes threw back her head and laughed, flopping back on Haven's bed. Jubes and Gambit had been together since they were seventeen. They were a good match, Haven thought. She could see how much they genuinely were in love, in the rare moments they showed that side of their relationship in public. Usually they were a display of carnal urges and casual implications, pretending they weren't so in love.

Haven knew better.

But Jubes was not so easily distracted; when she got an idea in her head, she held onto it with all her strength. Which, for such a small person, was surprisingly a lot. "Is there a guy? Why would you not tell me that?" Jubes quizzed.

"There's no guy."

"No guy?"

She shook her head, "Sorry to disappoint."

"Then where were you?"

"Exercising," Haven said quickly.

"In casual clothes? Please. I'm not an idiot. Next," she said, indicating for Haven's next lie so she could disprove it too.

"Shopping."

"And you're back so soon? With no bags to speak of? As if; I taught you better. Next."

This was how they worked. Haven would offer up lies when she didn't want to tell the truth, and Jubes would point out how they were wrong and couldn't be true until Haven gave up and just told her the truth. But this time, she wasn't giving up. This was her own secret, and she wasn't going to tell anyone.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went for a drive. I borrowed your car, I hope you don't mind," Haven said, throwing the keys to her. She knew when she took them that it wouldn't bother her in least. Unless she got in a crash – then she'd be in trouble.

She rolled over, sitting up and squinting at Haven, making speculative noises, "Well, you _do_ look tired."

Haven nodded, hoping she'd take that as truth. "Yeah, I'm thinking of taking some time off from university. Relax a little. Get rid of that stress."

Jubes slapped her hand against Haven's forehead, "You must be sick."

Haven threw her hand away, sighing, "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

There was a knock on Haven's door, and Rogue and Kitty piled in. They, at least, appeared to have not just woken up. They were dressed, their hair brushed.

Rogue had a bit of a sarcastic streak, mixed in with her southern charm. She was tall and graceful, despite her tomboy tendencies. Kitty was almost her complete opposite; she was girly, shorter, and considerably less graceful. Aside from their initial dislike of each other, due to them both liking the same boy, Bobby, they were now close friends.

Jubilee was of Asian heritage; one of the ones to cop a good, hard whack from the beauty stick. Her short black hair was usually artfully spiked up around her head, and she constantly bubbled with the kind of enthusiasm that was contagious. She always seemed to be full of energy, which fueled her mischievous, stubborn side. That was the side that had gotten them into trouble more than once in their schooling careers.

Haven, on the other hand, was petite; shorter than Kitty. She had black hair that was dead straight, coming half way down her back. She was no great beauty; she was pretty, yes, but only that, not beautiful. Her one redeeming feature was her eyes; large and bright, they were a dazzling green; like real emeralds, bordering on dark, dark green.

In the last few years, they were the only ones to stay on after they finished school, becoming X-Women. They were the only girls to do so, and as a result, they had become even closer. It felt incredibly weird chatting casually with Storm or Jean when they had taught them during their adolescent years. Jubes, Rogue and Kitty were the best friends Haven could ask for.

Rogue's sharp eyes took note of the easel and lead pencils scattered on the frame tray rather than in their tin. "Been drawing?"

Haven didn't really want to answer because it would undoubtedly lead to more questions and more answers she didn't want to give. But they were her best friends, and she didn't like lying to them. "Yeah."

"Can I see it?"

"Maybe when it's done," Haven told her, hoping she'd drop it.

Her eyebrow raised slightly, "Okay."

Usually, she didn't mind so much if they saw her drawings. In fact, she liked their input and what they thought about them, what they found interesting. So now she was going to have to start an art project to show her so she wouldn't attract more suspicion.

Well, at least she'd have time to, now that she'd be taking time off.

**Hey guys,**

**So, what did you think? Thanks so much for reading!**


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